Moment's Notice
by Lucy in the Sky
Summary: In this tale of undisputed interest, Dib features as a Devil-may-care New York paranormal detective, hot on the tail of the murderer of a certain cartoonist we all love but shall remain nameless nonetheless. And guess what...? NO MUSHY ROMANCE! WHOO!! HUR
1. Default Chapter

Moment's Notice  
  
Author's Notes: Hey, this is Lucy from WTFU fm, saying hey to all the groovy cats and kittens out there in Readerland.tonight, we've got the new fic by yours truly and my partner-in-crime Alice. In this fic, Dib is New York's top paranormal detective. The best in the business. He's nobody's fool. But then along comes Laura. She's pretty, she scared, she's blonde, and she needs Dib's help. Or does she? Find out in this tale of mystery, intrigue and subtle humour, by two of the youngest authoresses in the fanfic biz. Stay tuned, stay cool, and pleeaase, don't forget to leave a review...  
  
PLURly Yours, Lucy.  
  
Disclaimer an' other stuff: A few acronyms; IZ (c) JCV, ALTJ. ITC? Set in NYC, A/U. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~What's up wid awl dem squiggly lines?!~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
  
(Try to imagine in black and white, with old Miles Davis-esque jazz in the background.)  
  
It was one of those hot stormy nights in New York, one of those nights that make you feel like you're living in a teapot. The lights flickered on and off on account of the lightning, but that didn't bother me. The paranormal detective agency's been going way done in the past few months. I dunno, maybe people feel weird about an 11-year-old having a small business. I was just about to close up when there was a knock at the door. The visitor let herself in, and that was her first big mistake. I could hear her crying from here. "Hello? Is anyone here?" She said between sobs. I couldn't see her at all, save for once in a brief flash of lightning.  
  
"Right here, missy." I replied flatly, half-obscured by the shadows. "Anything I can do for ya?" "Yes..." She wiped some mascara-soaked tears from her eyes. She stepped into the dim lighting so I could see her. Second mistake. She was an obvious femme fatale. No, a stereotype femme fatale. She had huge green eyes, big red lips and the distinctively feminine parts of her upper torso had the same attributes, if you catch my drift. She was kinda tall and lanky, wearing only designer clothes. But what I first noticed was her fairy-tale-esque long blonde hair.  
  
"So, what's your name?" I said, getting up and offering her a tissue. "Rapunzel?" "What?" She said, seeming very puzzled. You could tell she was ditzy just from looking at her. "Well, you've got long hair and I found you languishing in a tower. It kinda fits." "No," she replied. "It's Laura." She sat down. "Laura Davis." "Laura, eh...?" I said softly. Now that takes me back. In my mind I recited a song I once heard. I sat back at my desk and switched on the radio. Some coincidence, it was the old Don Byas version of "Laura." I lay back in my ultra-cool-makes-all-the-losers-jealous-bubble-swivel chair and turned my back to Laura. "They're playing your song, Laura." I said to her. Damn, it had such a great dramatic effect, you should have seen it! I wish I coulda seen the look on Laura's face. I was all "swish!" and.hey, what was my point again? Oh yeah, I looked cool.  
  
"AHEM!" She scoffed. "Do you treat all your customers this way? Like 3rd class mail?" She said haughtily. "Only the 3rd-class-males. 1st-class-females are a different matter entirely, I assure you, Miss Davis." I flirted with a subtle smirk. Then, after realising how cheesy that sounded, and how easy this girl looked, I took out my resolution book and scribbled down "Don't flirt with the floozies." A little smile crept across her face, but then she remembered she was meant to be sad and sobbed loudly.  
  
"Are you gonna sit their bawling all night, or do you have a case? I'm a busy guy." I said coldly. Laura sniffled a bit, then spoke up. "Yes. I need your help." She wiped some drenched eye shadow from her face. She looked like a rich girl, designer clothes and such. That was something that I should have got suspicious about, now I think about it. "Okay, there's been a murder. We need your help, Dib." She said with all the charm of Mata Hari. But I wasn't gonna be fooled that easy. "Sorry, ma'am. Love to help you, but that's really not my field." "But you have to help!" She pleaded. Crocodile tears welled up in her deep green eyes.  
  
But luckily my paranoia kicked in just before I could say anything brash. Instead I'd say something dramatic, that'd leave her in tears. Hmmm, that didn't sound at all like me. But still, I had no control over the two stupid authors of this fic. So I decided just to play along. "Why?" I said bluntly. Well, that was bloody articulate, wasn't it. "Well, what sort of a fic would it make if you just sat around here?" She retorted. Although it's not really that funny to make stupid remarks like that, she had a point. I bet by now I've already lost half the audience.what'd it be like in 4 chapters time? Despite all good logic, I decided to hear her out.  
  
"Okay, fine, fine. What happened?" I said, although not very enthusiastically. She cast aside her crying facade and walked up to my desk. "The murder of a well-known Hispanic goth cartoonist who shall remain nameless." "Why? Wouldn't it be more help if we actually knew who was murdered?" I asked. Far from her sobbing persona I'd seen just a few minutes ago, an evil Cheshire-Cat-esque grin creeped across her chalk-white face. "Now, wouldn't you like to know..." She purred, but chillingly, sounding more and more like some deranged feline by the second. "Well, yeah, kinda." I said. Her femme fatale antics weren't gonna get the better of me. "Oh, no reason. Just call it a plot device to keep it clear." She said, regressing back to her normal self.  
  
"Well, what else do we know?" I went on. "It happened sometime between 1:30 and 2:30 am," She grabbed a piece of paper and jotted down a poorly-drawn map. "He stopped at the Nighthawk cafe around midnight, and then it's anyone's guess what happened then. That's all I know." She said. I took out my notebook and wrote all this down. "Call me if you find out anything, okay?" said Laura. "Uh-huh...thanks for all that. I'll see what I can do." I said reassuringly. "Don't worry, Laura, everything'll be OK." "Yeah, thanks. Bye..." She said as she stepped out the door. "I know it will."  
  
Just as she'd left, I realised that I'd done something very stupid that'd I regret for a long time after this. I forgot to ask for any money... ~~~~~~~ACK!THESQUIGGLIESAREAFTERMYBLOOD!~~~~~~~~~  
  
Alice says: Hi! Alice here, co-author of this pointless fic of doom and other stuff. Since Alice got to do the opening announcements, I get to finish everything off 'til next chapter. Yay. I'd just like to apologise if you didn't like this, but we simply two little baby smeets. Lucy's 10 but I'm only 9...HOW SMEETY WE ARE! Sorry for spelling/grammar mistakes, this clunky old piece-of-junk computer doesn't have a spellchecker. But on a lighter note, in our next chapter, Dib tries to track down his archenemy- since-forever-and-a-day, Zim. But then something happens and um, I don't know. We'll take care of that if/when it happens.  
  
Her Royal Hipness, Alice 


	2. Chapter 2

Moment's Notice  
  
Chapter 2  
  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Lucy says: If you read this fanfic, you may think the characters are a little OOC, but they're not, we just wrote like that. NOW, in this thrilling installment, Dib meets up with an old enemy, namely the guy at the Deli. And he sees Zim, too. Now, I warn you in advance of personal in- jokes, slight innuendo, author cameos, drug references and maybe a little out-of-character-osity...That is SO a word! Now, I'm off to find something to protest, so you just sit back and enjoy.  
  
Yours Truly, but not by choice, Lucy. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
  
I awoke the next morning asleep at my desk, I'd drooled all my papers in my sleep. Damn. I checked the clock. It was 8:00 am. I decided to drop in at Generica's deli for breakfast and then get to work on the case. I grabbed my coat from the coat rack. I mean my regular trenchcoat, of course. I wouldn't be seen dead in one of those stupid stereotype detective coats that you were probably picturing me in. I did, however, wear my Sherlock Holmes hat. ...What? Chicks dig Sherlock Holmes hats, don't they?  
  
It was a long walk to Generica's, but it certainly wasn't lonely. There were tons of sweaty angry people pushing and ramming each other into the oncoming traffic the way New Yorkers do. That's the weird thing about New York; so few people have cars but there's always traffic you can push people into. About the only way to avoid being slaughtered by cabs and buses is to shove anyone and everyone else into the road, women and children too. It seems cruel, but it's all just natural selection, really.  
  
Once I finally got there, I was greeted by the stench and sounds of the cows being slaughtered out back. One of the many alluring aromas of the neighborhood. I walked up to the counter. Some morbidly obese, androgynous looking...creature appeared before me. "Yah, Yah, whaddya want?" She/He/It grunted. "Toast and dim sums." I replied, slightly freaked out by that...thing. "Well you can't always get your own way," it replied. "MEAT!!!" It shouted and threw a huge slab of pork at me with enough force to knock me down. It hurt. "Hey, isn't this place kosher?" I asked, trying to wipe off some of the meat from my clothes. "No. Now go away." It said. I followed orders, since I wasn't really that hungry anyway and I didn't really want to spend anymore time here than necessary.  
  
I decided to see Laura again to question her on the details of the murder. She'd written her address down, so that explains the plot hole of how I knew where she lived. When I got to her apartment, it wasn't the slightest like what I'd expected. It was a messy hovel with pizza boxes strewn about the floor, roaches crawling about the walls and quarrelling siblings. "Hello, Dib..." She purred in a cotton-candy voice, trying to sound sexy but failing miserably. "Hi, Laura. I'd like to ask you some questions about the murder." I said. "Oh, please do. Come in." She beckoned, and swept aside some garbage on the floor with her foot. I followed her, trying hard not step on anything or breathe in.  
  
After an arduous journey to find a place to sit down, I took out my notebook and starting asking questions. "OK, Laura, what do you know?" I began abruptly. "I told you everything last night." She replied sweetly, trying to sound naive and childish, you know, acting her age and not her bust size. "No, you didn't." I went on. "Spill your guts, Laura. You're withholding information, I know it, I can tell." "OK, just a sec, I'll go get the meat cleaver." She joked. That was SO not funny it was sad. "Seriously, Laura, what do you know?" I said.  
  
"Well...there was one thing I didn't mention..." Laura began. "The victim apparently had a big fight with this one kid the day before." "Okay, who?" I said calmly. "I forget his name, um, what was it? Tim? Sim? I can't remember..." "ZIM!" I exclaimed loudly. "I KNEW he had to be involved somehow! Okay, what do you know about Zim?" "He's the sickly looking guy, right?" Laura inquired. "Yeah." I replied. "'Cept for the part about him being a guy." Laura shifted uncomfortably in her seat. ".That so?" She murmured, blushing heavily. "Sure explains an awful lot." "No!" I exclaimed, realising Laura had taken that the wrong way entirely. "That's not what I mean. He's an alien in disguise, see?" Laura sighed in relief, than realised that didn't make her feel any better. "But what do you know about him, Laura?" I said in an attempt to change the subject. "He's working the graveyard shift at Eddie's Hopper." "Where's that?" Admittedly, I don't know my way around here very well. I've only been here since this fic started, which is only a chapter. "Corner of Abbey and Penny. You can't miss it." She replied. "Uh-huh," I said while scribbling all this down in my notebook. "Thanks. I'll call if anything comes up." I got up and left, tip-toeing around all the junk of the floor. ***  
  
I decided to wait 'til night time to investigate for several reasons; first being Zim worked the graveyard shift, secondly my insomnia and third being the great dramatic effect night has upon the psyche of gullible readers. It was about midnight when I got there. Despite the fact that it's New York on another rainy summer night, it was cold and there was no-one in sight but several people in glassed-in diner, all bearing a striking resemblance to a painting. This looked like the place.  
  
I went inside. It was quiet.too quiet. I scanned the room and found Zim standing behind the counter, glaring at a couple at the table coldly. "Zim! I knew I'd find you here!" I shouted. "Shhh!" The red-haired woman scorned. "You wrecked the whole sombre atmosphere." "Come on, Martha," The man with her beckoned as they left. "Kids today, I swear." The other guy at the table just collapsed into a drunken stupor.  
  
"Ah, we meet again, Dib-monkey." Zim said bitterly. "Don't play dumb, Zim, I know you're behind the murder." I said abruptly. "What are you ranting on about now, Dib-worm? I know not of this murder." He said. "Oh, re-e-ally?" I said sceptically. I can always tell when Zim is hiding something, it's like some 5th sense I've got. But this time, he scanned clear. I realised that I'd jumped to conclusions again. Going up to someone and stabbing them lacked Zim's subtlety and tact. Wait, Zim with subtlety and tact? Scratch that, it lacked Zim's, um, Zim-ness. "Yes, re-e-ally..." He sneered back. "Lay off the acid." I swear, if I hear one more line about me being on acid I think I am going scream. First few times it was cute, but now it's just dumb. No, really, I AM SICK OF IT, DAMMIT! I stormed out of the diner in disgust.  
  
***  
  
Back in my office the next day, I pondered over all the possible subjects for the case. The results were as follows; Tak the Ripper Nny Happy Noodle Boy Lucinda Starkey Gir Zim (Still don't trust him) That Monkey...  
  
Now it's only a matter of time before the killer strikes again, I guess. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~DUN DUN DUNNN!! TO BE CONTINUED!!! ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
  
Alice says: Hmm...that sounds like a Velvet Underground song, doesn't it? Wait, what does that have to do with anything? Me and the Velvet Underground and fri-e-ends... Oh well. So, in the next chapter, Dib meets up with Tak, but as a totally unbiased and very nice author, I will refrain from dropping a anvil on her head. Or having her eaten up by many little piglets trained to snap and oink a lot. Or.. (Monty Python crowd: GET ON WITH IT!!) Fine, don't get stingy. Well, if you didn't already know, Invader Zim is owned by Jhonen Vasquez and all the other corporate sellouts. But if you didn't know that, lay off the acid.  
  
-Her Royal Hipness, Alice. 


End file.
